


An Addict's Sorrow

by ShadowBiscuit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addiction, Crying, Demon Blood, Demon Blood Addiction, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Sam, M/M, Protective Dean, Random demons, Sam On Demon Blood, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:36:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an unpleasant encounter, Sam is left with demon blood running through his system once again. It's time for detox, but when Dean gets worried about his little brother, Sam can't stop himself from pouring his heart out, and all the hurt he felt while on demon blood. What's it really like to be addicted to something that good and evil.</p>
<p>WARNING: I had problems with addiction, so the description might be too realistic for some people. Those who also suffered from addiction should read this at their own risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Addict's Sorrow

“Clear?” Sam asked in a low voice, his back pressed against the cold, and pretty moldy, stone wall of the factory they were about to break in. He glanced around, then at his brother, who was scanning the entrance for demons or any traps those sly sons of bitches might have set up in order to slow them down.

They were on the road when Garth called them with a possible case. People started acting strange all of a sudden and began gutting people for no reason whatsoever, as if something just set them off from one day to another. After a few chats with the witnesses and police officers, and a conversation that was pretty one sided, with the man tied to the chair, screaming and cursing both him and his brother, they finally managed to figure out what was causing these people to go all Ted Bundy on the townsfolk. Apparently, a whole bunch of demons were stealing human souls, which was why those poor bastards went psycho, cold killers like how Sam acted when his soul was stuck in the Cage. The memories of what he did in his soulless state made the younger Winchester cringe. He’d rather not walk down that memory lane.

Anyway, they tracked down one of the demons and followed him here, to this abandoned and dirty factory, into which they were planning to break in and, if all goes well, kill all the black eyed sons of bitches inside. “Yeah, clear,” he heard Dean say, motioning towards the entrance. They both ran the short distance from their hideout to the door, then after an exchange of looks, Sam kicked the door open, which nearly flung off its hinges.

“Dude, you think maybe a lock pick would have been a better idea?” Dean asked incredulously, to which Sam just shrugged and slowly entered the building, his brother following close behind. Dean might have been right, of course, if Sam wouldn’t have left their lock pick in the car. Dean didn’t have to know about that, though.

They walked down the hall, half crouching and always on the lookout for anything, until they began hearing the sounds of muffled noises coming from the red door at the end of the hallway. Sam glanced back at his brother, motioning with his head towards the door. Dean nodded and walked past Sam, demon killing knife at the ready, and stopped in front of the door. He waited until Sam nodded, signaling for him to go ahead, then Dean tried the handle and was surprised when upon turning it, the door creaked open. Once again, he was caught off guard when he entered the room, just to find no one inside.

“You think they bailed?” he asked, turning towards Sam who just entered the room and looked around in surprise. There was nothing in the room, except some old, rusty shelves and a round table with a bunch of chairs around it. The room was lit by a single fluorescent lamp on the ceiling, which gave off an annoying buzzing sound that could make you go crazy after a while.

“Either that, or they’re hiding. We clearly heard someone talking, and there wasn’t just one voice. Chances are, they heard us and left in a hurry or are just waiting for a good moment to strike,” Sam said as he walked around the room, checking every nook and cranny but found nothing.

“Well, that’s just great. In other words, we’re practically in a mousetrap. Man, if they know we’re here, then not only are we going to be outnumbered, considering that they’re not idiots and will bring backup, but also out gunned. Minus the guns. Super hoodoo demon power versus our demon killing knife and some holy water, I’ll be betting on the hoodoo to win the fight,” Dean grumbled, his eyes always scanning the room for who knows what that might be popping out of nowhere any second. Sam felt pretty much the same way, but it wasn’t like they could just stroll back to the car and come back another time. They had to take care of this, here and now, even if the odds were against them. Judging by the long sigh coming from his brother, Dean made up his mind as well and threw his hands in the air. “Alright, you bastards! Come on, don’t be chicken shit! Let’s get this party started!” he shouted, the thick walls making his voice echo in the room.

They only had to wait a bit before several demons appeared in the room, several meaning five or six, and Sam and Dean knew they were pretty much screwed.

But when weren’t they?

“Finally decided to grace us with your presence?” Dean asked sarcastically, grinning at the demon in front of him who seemed to be wearing a bald, suit wearing man as meatsuit, who looked like he would be a great fit for a bouncer’s job. The demon returned Dean’s grin, though it looked more sinister and wrong on the possessed man.

“Sam and Dean Winchester. What a pleasure. Not really a surprise, though. I’ve been waiting for this moment for, well, years and now that it’s finally here, I’m lost for words,” said a smaller woman, probably another demon, who walked into the room from the hallway the brothers were using to ninja their way in not too long ago.

“And you must be the Queen of Hearts, nice to meet you too,” Dean gave her a small wink and Sam had to bite down on his cheek in order not to laugh. Seriously, his brother had to do the worst jokes at the worst time possible. Though, for his credit, the woman did look like the evil queen from the fairy tale. Short black hair, that typical pompous posture and a black and red striped dress. Only thing she was missing were a few extra pounds.

“Very funny. Heard you love joking. Well, let’s see if you’ll laugh when you’re being skinned alive,” she smiled, a real nasty thing, then snapped her fingers, to which the demons surrounding both Sam and Dean began closing in on them, before attacking. Black eyes were everywhere, punching and kicking while Dean tried to slash every single one of their throat, that is, when he wasn’t being suffocated by an arm. Sam was pretty surprised when only two out of six demons rushed him, both grabbing one arm each and pushing him on the ground.

“The hell? Let me go!” he yelled, kicking and clawing, trying to push the stubborn demons off but to no avail. He saw Dean fighting for his life from the corner of his eyes and he let out a frustrated growl. He wanted to help his brother out, wanted to rip these bastards’ throat out, just _do_ something instead of laying here, in the iron grips of two demons. When Sam stopped trashing around, he noticed the queen bitch staring at him in an unnerving way, then when she saw him looking at her, she flashed a smile his way, then walked over to him.

“I also heard a lot about you, Sam Winchester. Many, oh how many things. Mostly rumors but they were all so juicy. For example, there was this little birdie who told me-” she paused, crouching down next to Sam and held an empty hand up, then as she lifted her other hand, Sam noticed that she was holding a small blade. “-that you were an addict. A junky. And not the fun kind. You were addicted to demon blood, of all the things. I bet that you miss it, everyday you think about that delicious, sweet demon blood, don’t you? Well, I have virtues, and one of them is generosity. I’ll let you have a taste, Winchester. You can thank me later,” she laughed, and cut a straight line into her palm, crimson blood already pooling at the open wound.

Sam began to panic. Not this, not now, not _again_. He’s been clear for years, but could still remember the feeling, the high, the power he felt every time he drank from Ruby. Already, he could smell it, the demon blood, making his nose flare in both terror and hunger. He trashed around, scared out of his wits as he saw the bloody palm close in, then as he felt panic and something else, something dark and familiar, he screamed for his brother.

“Dean! Dean!” he managed to shout, drawing his fighting brother’s attention who looked at the event taking place in front of his eyes in horror, before Sam’s mouth was covered by the bloody palm. He tried, fought the urge and kept his mouth closed shut, but the she demon forced his mouth open and then it was over, Sam could taste the blood in his mouth and swallowed, had no other choice but to swallow.

“No!” Dean shouted desperately, shoving the demons away and tried to run to his little brother, but one of the demons caught his ankle and tripped him. Cursing under his breath, Dean kicked the demon in the face, then hissed in pain at the prodding feeling in his side-

Wait a second. Dean frowned and if he wasn’t in such a hurry, would have facepalmed himself as he pulled the bottle out from the inner pocket of his jacket. “Sayonara, bitches,” he grinned and threw the demon bomb to the ground. The demons didn’t have enough time to smoke out before the bottle shattered, and were all blown away, killed by the blast that left Sam and Dean unharmed.

Dean immediately crawled to his brother who was trying to sit up, looking around with wide eyes and unfortunately, with blood running down his chin. “Damn it Sammy,” Dean helped his brother up, who still seemed a little bit out of it, then both of them walked back to the car.

*

None of them said anything for a while, but after half an hour of being on the road, with Dean staring straight ahead while driving, Sam finally broke the silence. “She made me drink it, and that was a lot of blood. I’m not saying I’m not at fault here, I know I am too, since after the few initial drops, it was all me drinking the blood on my own, after all, but-“

“Sammy, shut the fuck up,” Dean growled, gripping the wheel tighter. “I get it. I do, man, but now’s not the time to, you know. Let’s just go back to the bunker and detox you, okay?”

“No, Dean, you don’t. You don’t get it. We should talk about this.”

“Sam, there’s _nothing_ to talk about. You’re high on demon juice again, yeah, but we’ll fix it!” Dean snapped, glaring at Sam, who furrowed his brows and nodded, looking away from his brother to stare out the window.

But no matter what he said, Dean didn’t get it. He knew that too, of course, but didn’t want to think about it. Though, even if he thought about it, he wouldn’t even get close to understanding what Sam was going through. Looking out the window, Sam tried to ignore the need, the dark feeling that was like a tempting whisper in his ear, pleading him to let the monster out. Well, Sam learned the hard way not to listen to that voice, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t suffering, wasn’t hearing it. And Dean didn’t know, only a junkie could know, only an abomination like him could understand what he was feeling.

It felt like an eternity until they finally got back to the bunker and Sam, instead of heading to the dungeon like he was supposed to, walked into his room and locked himself in. He didn’t care if he was behaving like a child, refusing to come out of his room. He just needed to be alone for a bit, in his room and not in the dungeon.

“Sammy? C’mon, you can’t stay in there all day. Come out. Or at least, let me in,” Dean stood on the other side of the door, trying the handle for the thousandth time but the door still didn’t want to magically unlock itself. “Sam? Are you listening?” he sounded worried, and Sam was sure that he was, but…

He closed his eyes, let out a long sigh, then got up from his bed and unlocked the door. Dean entered the door just as he sat back on the bed with a pillow on his lap. Dean raised an eyebrow at that, closing the door behind him, then slowly and carefully, as if his brother was a scared animal, approached him and sat down next to him.

“Sammy? You okay?” he asked, eyeing his brother. Sam glanced at Dean, looked into those concerned, worried eyes and shook his head. He decided that it was unnecessary, lying to his brother again, so he tried another approach. Telling the truth.

“Dean, I…” he started, then gripped the pillow in his lap harder. “I’m sorry but, no. You don’t know. You have no idea how it feels like, and I’m not just talking about the blood. The addiction is awful. It’s… at first it’s fine. You find something new, something fun that makes you feel _happy_. And yeah, I said that I wasn’t enjoying it but no, I was. I felt strong, powerful, felt like finally, I could do something that made a difference. I never realized what it was doing to me, I refused to believe it. I guess I knew it, deep down, but I never truly acknowledged it. It was fine, I thought I was fine, but then reality came and hit me hard. When you told me that I was a junkie, an addict, I just laughed it off because I truly didn’t believe it. I just thought that… you didn’t understand me, that no one could understand what I was feeling, what I was going through except Ruby and the blood. I threw everything away without even realizing it, chose a demon over you without even thinking twice. I pushed you and everyone who actually cared about me away.” Sam said, swallowing back tears.

“Sam…” Dean saw the pained look in his brother’s hazel eyes and put a hand on his shoulder. But before he could have said anything else, Sam shook his head. “Dean, let me finish it.”

“You know, there’s one point in all addicts’ life, which is the worst. As I said, at first I was fine, or at least I felt like it. Then gradually, the reality of things came crashing down and then I saw. I realized what I did, how I destroyed everything with my own two hands. I felt like dying, then, I wanted nothing more than to turn back time and stop myself. But no… I couldn’t do that, it was too late. I understood how much of a fool I was, how I sacrificed everything for nothing and… Dean, I felt like curling up into a ball and just hide away from the world and everyone. And now, now I can feel this…poison in me again and it’s horrible, but good, too. It brings back so many unwanted memories and, even though after all these years when I looked back at that time of my life I cursed myself, asking what the hell was so good about the blood that was worth destroying everything, now… Now, that it’s in me again, I know. I can feel it again, Dean, and it’s so right, so good that you can’t even imagine it. I know that it’s just the addict thinking that, that it’s not really the case but that doesn’t change the fact that I remember it and love it. Even if it’s wrong, in every way, and I know that it is, a little part of me still believes that it isn’t. That this is right, and good and just simply amazing. The rush, the high it makes me experience… and I can’t argue with that because, no matter what, it’s still me thinking that. No one’s possessing me, it’s all me, Dean. It’s all me.”

Sam couldn’t stop his tears at that point, and he turned his head away from his brother. But just as he did, he felt Dean’s strong hand on his face, turning his head back, then he was pulled into the tightest hug he ever experienced. Dean’s arms were wrapped around him, holding him tightly, one of his brother’s hand caressing his head and brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. “I’m sorry, Sammy. You’re right, I don’t get it, I didn’t know. But now you told me and man, you really need to stop blaming yourself,” he said, mumbling against Sam’s head, then placed a small, gentle kiss on his younger brother’s forehead, which made Sam feel his face heat up a little. “This isn’t your fault. And we’ll deal with this shit, just like we’ve always had, okay little brother? Everything will be just fine. You know what?” Dean pulled back a little, waiting for Sam to look at him, then smiled. “What do you say I make us some grub and lock ourselves in this room? This’ll be your detox room, but this time I won’t be going anywhere. We can talk, have chick flick moments, whatever you want, I’ll listen. We’ll get through this together and I won’t leave your side until you’re clean again. How does that sound?” he asked, and Sam nearly broke down in tears again, but for an entirely different reason.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Dean,” Sam said, though it came out like a broken whisper as he slowly took a hold of Dean’s hand and gave it a weak squeeze. He was smiling now, too, then when Dean hugged him again, Sam leaned into his embrace and buried his face in his brother’s neck, inhaling Dean’s smell. It made him relax, for some reason, and he felt like he could fall asleep like this, without any worry, knowing that his big brother would be there when he woke up, protecting him like he always have.


End file.
